


Spiritual Guidance

by HighSidhe



Series: Random Snippets and Crossovers [19]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen, Triwizard Tournament, first task
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 16:38:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighSidhe/pseuds/HighSidhe
Summary: If Harry hadn't been so focused on the map and getting back to the common room, he might have missed the strange name on the landing above him.





	Spiritual Guidance

Harry barely noticed his walk back to the castle. His brain kept circling around what Hagrid had shown him. He was having a hard time wrapping his brain around the fact that he would be facing a dragon for the very first task. His battle against the basilisk seemed minor in comparison to what he would be facing in a few short days.

He wrapped his cloak tightly around him as he hurried across the lawn. In the distance he could see that the lights in Durmstrang's quarters were dimmed. Harry found himself briefly wondering if Karkaroff had already told Viktor what they would be facing.

Would the other champions panic when they heard what their first task was? Were they prepared for the possibility of facing a dragon? Harry wondered if there was such a thing as ever being prepared to face a dragon. He couldn't help but remember how the dragon tamers, Charlie Weasley included, had struggled to keep the dragons in check. If they had difficult, trained as they were, he could only imagine how difficult it was going to be for them. For him.

Harry was running on auto-pilot as he made sure to carefully wrap the cloak around his form. As he approached the Entrance Hall, he unearthed the Marauder's Map and examined it quickly. There was no one around to see him slipping back inside the castle.

After shutting the doors as quietly as he could manage, Harry hurried on. He didn't have much time to get from the ground floor to the Common Room before he needed to talk to Sirius.

So focused was he on the path back to his common room that Harry almost missed the oddity that had shown up on the map. 

He was standing near the top of one of the staircases as it slowly drifted closer to the landing, and the landing was clear. According to his eyes, anyway. There was absolutely no one standing there as far as Harry could see. Harry had glanced down at his map, however, and noticed that it seemed to indicate that someone was standing right there. 

Harry froze, staring down at the map. He recalled the oddities he had seen last year with the map and how he had discounted the existence of Peter Pettigrew, even though he had seen his name pop up repeatedly on the map. 

If the map said someone was standing there, then that meant that someone was standing there.

Harry looked up again, prepared to start looking for someone invisible or maybe even as an animagus. He nearly fell over in shock, however, at what he did see.

Whoever Sanderson Mansnoozie was, they definitely weren't a student at Hogwarts, or a dignitary from either of the other schools.

Harry was hard-pressed to say what exactly the little man was, to be honest.

He couldn't see the entirety of his body, since it was partially obscured by the disk that he was sitting in the middle of. Gold dust that reminded Harry strongly of the sand used in Time Turner's swirled around him and seemed to make up the disk he was sitting on. Even his body, or at least his closed seemed to be made of the stuff. That wasn't half as disconcerting as the long tendrils snaking out of the disk.

He wasn't aware of the gasp of surprise that had escaped his lips, but the little man was staring intently in his direction. Harry instinctively stepped out of the path of one of the tendrils as it came dangerously close to running through his hair. It didn't stop there as it seemed to be probing the place where Harry was standing. 

With no idea what exactly the stuff was made of, Harry didn't want to touch the stuff. Especially if it had some sort of time traveling purpose. 

The little man's eyes were staring intently now, and Harry got the impression that he/it knew that something was there at least. He didn't look angry or even upset about being caught, mostly he just looked flummoxed at not being able to see what was there.

It was a magic school though, so that really shouldn't come as a surprise.

Harry, in his effort to avoid the tendril that was starting to get overly friendly with him, lost his footing and started to fall backwards. At some point, his wand had ended up in his hand, although Harry wasn't quite sure when that had happened. Before he could even think of a spell to cast, the tendril snapped out and wrapped around his waist, tugging him up to face the small floating man.

He was regarding Harry with a slight frown, and it took Harry several moments to recall that at least part of him must still be covered in the invisibility cloak, even if it had partially fallen off of his shoulders. 

Sand swirled over his form for a moment, forming a question mark. 

"Who- what are you?" Harry asked suspiciously, not about to explain why he was about after curfew. 

Honestly he had no idea if the little man was a threat or not. He didn't look like one. Even holding Harry captive, he seemed more curious than anything.

A series of pictographs formed and dissipated in quick succession over the small man's head. It was far too fast for Harry to even begin to make heads or tails of it.

"Can you not just tell me?" He blinked. The little man shook his head and determinedly held a finger up to his lips. "Oh-kay then." Harry stared at him. "You're going to have to do that a lot slower." He indicated the pictures by waving his fingers in the general direction of the man's head.

The pictures came by slower - a child sleeping in their bed with dolphins playing over their heads - the small golden man directing the dolphins and other dreams as well - and Harry eventually figured out what he was telling him. 

"So.. You bring dreams?" He asked after working through the pictures for a third time.

The little man - bringer of dreams apparently - grinned enthusiastically and clapped his hands together. "Guess that explains the no-talking." Harry muttered. "Could you, um, could you set me down?"

He did as Harry had requested. Just to make sure that he wasn't going mad, Harry double-checked the map again. He was standing next to a floating man whose name was apparently Sanderson Mansnoozie. He looked up in time to realize that he had been peering curiously down at the map as well, and nearly bumped heads.

"So is your name Sanderson?" Harry asked.

He nodded eagerly, tipping a hat that had swirled into existence over his head as he gave a slight bow.

It was a little odd, finding out that such a creature? - man? existed, but it honestly wasn't any different from realizing that phoenixes or dragons existed. 

Dragons. Why did it have to be dragons?

Sanderson must have noticed his loss of enthusiasm because another question mark had formed over his head.

"Triwizard Tournament, dunno if you know about it." Harry muttered after a moment. He was mildly surprised to see Sanderson nodding his head eagerly at that, a picture swirling over his head of a figure sleeping and dreaming. He probably shouldn't have been so surprised to find that some people were actually dreaming of the tournament. A lot of people had been interested in competing, even himself to some extent. Although that particular interest was long since dead.

"We're facing dragons for the first task." Sanderson stared at him with a slight frown, a picture of him riding a dragon appearing over his head followed by a question mark.

Harry shrugged. "I have no idea what we're supposed to be doing with the dragon, just that there's one involved." He answered. He found himself wondering why he was confiding in Sanderson.

Maybe it was because the little man didn't seem to be hoping for his untimely death like half of the rest of the school was. They would probably change their minds soon enough, but in the meantime, he was tired of dealing with their disgust at his supposedly cheating his way into the tournament.

The golden man indicated a small figure flying a dragon again and grinned enthusiastically.

"I'm.. Not sure if dragons can even be flown." Harry answered slowly with an odd look on his face. "They don't seem like they would like it very much."

He drooped slightly, and Harry felt a pang of guilt. On the other hand, getting eaten by a dragon didn't seem like very much fun either. 

He suddenly lit up again and started fast-forwarding through multiple of his little pictures. Harry shook his head, "You're going to have slow down, Mr. Mansnoozie." He told him.

He slowed down, showing a picture of a snowflake, followed by some sort of ball thing, and then Harry riding the dragon.

"Why are you so keen on me flying the dragon?" He asked curiously.

His expression could only be described as mischievous as he showed the picture of someone flying a dragon again. A furrowed look of concentration as sand formed a series of pictures - a snowflake again, a window with tiny delicate webbing creeping up it, the strange ball again, and finally flying the dragon. Harry wasn't following what snow had to do with anything.

"You want me to freeze it?" 

A look of frustration briefly crossed his face as he determinedly shook his head, cycling through the same images again. Frost maybe? Snowflake? Snowball! 

"Wouldn't a snowball make it angry though?" He frowned. He was pretty sure that throwing snowballs at dragons probably counted as a terrible idea.

Sanderson frowned in thought. This time his sand formed into a somewhat crude caricature of a boy with a staff, tapping a window and frost creeping up it again. So. Someone that could create frost? 

Wait.. Wasn't there some sort of figure that did frostly things? The Dursley's had never been big on folk lore, but even they had had difficulty hiding the existence of things like the easter bunny and santa. And if the dream guy here - the sandman maybe - existed, who was to say that the rest of them didn't either. 

What was his name though? The answer was niggling on the tip of his tongue. 

Jack Frost!

At the golden man's eager nod, he realized that he must have said that out loud.

Again, he mimed throwing a snowball, superimposing another image of the boy over it. Harry frowned. "How would that help though?" He asked curiously. 

0-0

It had started snowing the next morning, and it showed no signs of letting up soon. Already the grounds were blanketed, and the Beauxbatons delegation could be found huddling together whenever they ventured into the school. Their warming charms did not seem to be doing much for the chillingly cold weather. 

Harry entertained the notion that they might have to cancel the first task, but that was very quickly dashed by the Headmaster's announcement.

He was far too nervous to actually eat, in spite of Hermione's best efforts. He did not feel at all prepared to take on a dragon, and he was even less convinced that trying to fly around one was a good idea. It seemed more likely to get him killed, either by being roasted, eaten, or knocked off. 

It was with a heavy heart that he left the Great Hall and headed out towards the arena. On the way there, he saw the strange golden man, Sanderson Mansnoozie.

There was a boy wandering alongside him, a staff casually thrown across his shoulders. "So who are we looking for?" He asked. An image of a lightning bolt formed over his head. 

Harry stared at the two of them, wandering what the hell his life had turned into. No one seemed to see either of them. Even as he watched, a handful of Ravenclaws wandered through them, prompting a shudder from the paler boy and a puzzled look from the students. Harry realized that he had been staring pretty intently at the two strange figures. 

Quietly he slipped towards the tent. They seemed to have spotted him, because they were heading in that direction. 

"Isn't that cheating though?" The taller of the two pondered as they hovered outside the tent. "Although he looks like he could use an advantage or two."

"Well if you're offering.." Harry stared at him bemusedly. 

His eyes widened as he focused on Harry. "Did you- are you talking to me?"

"Uhh, yeah?" Harry was taken aback. "Not anyone else talking to me at the moment. Hello Sandman," he nodded politely at the other spirit. 

"Huh. He can see us." The other spirit seemed strangely excited, practically bouncing on his feet. "Do you hear that Sandy? He can see me!"

Sandy nodded enthusiastically.

0-0-0-0-0

Jack grinned at him, "Better get some snowballs ready, kiddo." He said, turning towards the dragon. He was also holding a snowball, one that seemed to be glowing faintly. Harry knelt down in the snow and started rolling up clumps of snow. He vaguely wondered if this hadn't been the plan all along since it seemed to be the perfect sort of snow for this.

Gathering several of them up in his cloak, he started towards the dragon where Jack was waiting for him. "Showtime!" The Winter spirit shouted as he hurled his snowball towards the dragon.

It hit her snout, and the entire stand seemed to freeze for a moment, holding their breaths in anticipation. 

Then, incredibly enough, she fixed Harry with a flat stare and started gathering snow in her claws. His eyes widened as the mound of snow built under her sharp talons. Harry dodged to the side and turned to stare as the massive snowball shattered against the wards protecting the audience.

He turned to look back at the dragon and couldn't stop the wide grin. 

Jack seemed to share his enthusiasm. "Egg, right?" At Harry's nod, he called for the dragon's attention.

"Proposition for you," He called out, "You're sitting on a golden egg. I propose that my champion here duke it out with a snowball fight, and the winner takes the egg."

She stared at him for several long moments before peering into her clutch. A moment later, the egg was held delicately in her claws. 

Her voice was deep and thunderous. It sounded like she was actually speaking, which Harry hadn't realized was possible. He could not understand a word of it, however. Whatever she was saying, it was clear form her movements that she was agitated by the egg.

"She agrees to our terms under the condition that her eggs are returned to her afterward."

Harry stared blankly. "What?"

"Oh those aren't her eggs. This sort of cold would have killed them, even with her keeping them warm. It's too cold." Jack waved it off. "The Dragon Keepers have them elsewhere. They thought she wouldn't notice that they'd replaced them, and she might not have if I hadn't told her of the other egg."

Well, that made sense, he supposed. 

"Better not lose, by the way, not unless you _want_ to be a dragonet minder."

"Uh... What?"

"Oh, she likes you. Wants you to mind her little ones when she's not around. She doesn't trust those dragon keepers anymore, and you seem like a nice trustworthy character."

"You're not really giving me an incentive to win here." Harry commented dryly. The prospect of minding baby dragons seemed a lot less stressful than the Triwizard Tournament. 

Her much larger snowballs were fairly easy to dodge, but the Horntail was crafty, cornering him against the wards where dodging was difficult. His own snowballs tended to hit her a lot more than hers were hitting him, but hers were large enough to wind him whenever they struck, whereas his, she barely seemed to notice. 

In spite of that, Harry found that he was actually having fun, something he certainly hadn’t been expecting when he’d woken up this morning. 

It was a disappointment when the Horntail curled exhaustedly around her nest, flicking the golden egg in his direction and crooning in a deep bellowing roar. 

Harry picked the egg up and bowed low to her. “That was fun,” he told her sincerely, not even sure if she could understand him. “I will make sure that your eggs are returned to you.” With a cheerful wave, he headed for the exit, a broad grin on his face, where Jack and Sandie were waiting for him. 

Ron and Hermione were also waiting and mistook his wave for them. 

“That was brilliant!” Ron grinned widely. Harry frowned at him.

“Yes, good thinking, although.. How did you convince it to play along?” Hermione asked, practically brimming with curiosity. 

“Her.” Harry corrected absently. “Jack Frost helped me.”

She blinked, a small frown on her face. “I didn’t know you were interested in folk tales.”

Jack sputtered indignantly. “I am not a folk tale.” Sanderson reached up to pat his shoulder comfortingly.

“Thank you for your help.” Harry said seriously, ignoring them momentarily. Let them think he was insane - that could have gone a lot worse than it had, especially since his plan had been flying. Seeing her in action, he knew that that would have been a terrible idea.

“Harry… who are you talking to?”

“Jack Frost, I told you.” He indicated the boy in question, who looked surprised and pleased at the mention. 

“Harry, mate, there’s no one there.” Ron told him shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.” It was weird to think that without the map, he might not have seen them either. How many times had he walked through them, whatever they were, none the wiser. 

No wonder Jack was so happy to be noticed. Harry hated the attention he got, but he couldn’t imagine going unnoticed entirely. It seemed lonely.

He could show them the map! Pity he didn’t have it with him, but later.

“Harry, your scores!” Harry spun around just in time to see Madame Maxime spinning a blue ribbon up in the air, a large ‘7’ spiraling into existence. It was quickly followed by a ‘9’ from Bagman, a ‘9’ from Dumbledore, and a ‘6’ from Karkaroff.

“Not bad.” Ron murmured pleased.

Harry frowned at him. Why was he over here, pretending as if the last three weeks hadn’t happened?

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd.
> 
> I actually had a lot of ideas and plans for this one before I lost steam with it, so I'll leave those here as well. 
> 
> Harry becomes friends with both Sandy and Jack Frost (Hogwarts gets unusually high snowfalls for his remaining years there because Jack is around so much) - which also has the side effect of Sandy and Jack becoming closer friends as well. After Harry's rendezvous with Voldemort in the forest, he comes back as the spirit of peace. That being his nature, he is mostly seen around children that are in bad situations - usually dying - which kind of gives him a bad name in the spirit community, although he's still bros with Jack and Sandy. He has an uneasy truce with Pitch because they tend to haunt the same children - lots of philosophical arguments and such there. He also unofficially gains folk lore status amongst wizarding kind by defeating Voldemort and then promptly disappearing. When the events of Rise of the Guardians start up, Harry is absolutely knocking down the doors of the North Pole because they *kidnapped his friend*, like hell is he just standing around for that.
> 
> If you get inspired by this, feel free to use it. Drop me a link, I'd love to read it.


End file.
